Turning Pages
by lieselmemingers
Summary: 10.5/Rose. 'Give me a few months, Rose, I'll bring it all back. We'll be up there soon, I promise, because that's exactly where we belong.' Rose and the Human-Doctor have fallen from great heights. Now, it's time to heal.
1. The First Page

**Turning Pages**

**_As the Human-Doctor and Rose embark on their new journey, they face the challenges of mortality, a new universe and make that final push, sending them back into the embrace of the stars._**

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Prologue: The First Page

'Thought I'd find you here.'

'You never did miss a trick.'

The night hung heavy around the Powell Estate, fog caressing the sides of the buildings, pressing insistently on the uniform rows of doors and windows. Rose Tyler shivered in the cool, damp air, pulling her large sweatshirt closer around her shoulders, trying to lock some heat in. She shoved her hands deep into the fleecy pockets and sighed, her shoulders dropping.

The Doctor was standing in the courtyard, arms crossed over his chest, staring up at the Powell Estate as though it held the meaning of life. His brow was furrowed, and his legs were firmly planted on the concreted floor in a wide stance. It was clear that he had been stood here for a good time; the dampness in the air had begun to cling to his hair, making it stick closer to his head than usual. He didn't look up as she approached.

'How did you know?' he asked, shooting her a side-long glance.

'Just had a feeling really...'

She casually left out the part where she had driven virtually everywhere she could think of in London, scanning roads and parks until she had eliminated most places they used to go. Her old estate had been her last scrap of hope. She had practically squealed in delight when she had pulled up and saw his familiar long figure silhouetted against the fog.

Rose sighed in exasperation; she had driven for hours trying to find him.

'So what are you up to?' she asked tentatively, trying to appear casual and unconcerned. 'Never knew you were so fond of this place...'

'Oh, I'm not,' he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, on which his stubble was prominent. 'Just...came here to think. This was where it all started; all those years ago. You were nineteen, Rose, with your whole life ahead of you. An ordinary life.'

His eyes flashed to hers quite suddenly, and she felt a bolt of electricity that originated somewhere in the pit of her stomach, travelling the route of her veins. He asked, 'Do you miss it?'

'No,' she answered instinctively.

'Really?' he asked again, raising his eyebrows. 'Can you really tell me that a part of you wouldn't happily run up those stairs, into your old flat, greeted by your mum on the sofa with a cup of tea?'

Rose considered the door on the second floor which she had once considered home. The window was dark and cold; an unstaring, acknowledging eye which had never seen her before. She swallowed the lump in her throat, a barrage of memories flooding her senses.

'That's someone else's flat,' she told him firmly, 'someone else's life.'

'It used to be yours,' the Doctor replied, looking back up at the building. 'This was your sanctuary.'

'Some sanctuary – being too scared to leave after ten in case you got lynched.' She joked. He looked at her knowingly and she sighed.

'I've already got over what I lost,' Rose maintained. 'It's just a reflection of home; that's all.'

The Doctor paused for a moment, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. 'Am I a reflection?'

'No,' she told him firmly. 'You're him. The same man, yeah?'

'Am I though?' he asked, seeming to talk more to himself than to her. 'If he's there, and he's the original? If he's your home and I'm...the parallel...the copy? How am I not the reflection?'

Rose swallowed hard, avoiding his eye. 'You're just...not.'

The Doctor snorted in sarcasm.

'You're the same man!' Rose insisted, throwing her hands up in the air. 'I can see it in your eyes; it's the same look, the same expression. You're still the Doctor through and through, no matter how many hearts you have.'

The Doctor stilled, his face still impassive. 'One heart,' he pondered thoughtfully. 'One life.'

'Can you live with that?' she asked, approaching him a little closer.

They were almost shoulder to shoulder; Rose could feel the warmth from his skin diffusing through her, despite the layers of clothing. She looked up at the estate with him, mirroring his stance. He didn't reply, but didn't move away. She heard the rowdy shouts of a gang of passing drunks and ignored them, not wanting to break their cocoon of silence. Still, she couldn't help giving her parked car a worried glance.

'I'm afraid, Rose,' he whispered, almost too quiet to hear. 'My life's going to run out. Even now, I have limited time. I've lived so long in the knowledge that I was going to keep running, and keep living, and exploring. And now, it's like I woke up and found that I have a death sentence hanging over my head. A single bullet could finish me, or a measly little virus. It's like everything in the world is suddenly coated in splinters, and I can't touch anything.'

Rose didn't know what to say, or how to console him. She looked up into his face. His breath was making tracks in the air, dispersing wildly with the heat of his newly-human body. Apart from this, and the blue suit which he wore instead of his brown, Rose could see no difference. She wished he could see himself through her eyes, to acknowledge that no visible change had been made. He was still the Doctor.

'What about me?' she questioned lightly. The Doctor finally looked at her, his brow still tensed. 'Am I covered in splinters?'

The Doctor seemed to be pondering her, before finally saying, 'No. You're not.'

He laughed through his nose; a single, dry chuckle. 'Completely harmless, you are, Rose Tyler.'

'Oi!' she protested, whacking him gently on the shoulder. 'I'm fully trained in combat, you know. I could take you down.'

'Promises, promises,' he raised his eyebrows, giving one last laugh before his face once again relaxed into that dreaded pensive expression. 'It's hardened you, Torchwood has. The most damage the old Rose could do was a nifty slap around the face.'

'Got that off Mum,' Rose smiled brightly. He didn't smile, and she sighed. 'Look, it's been a few years. Of course I'm different. I grew up; I had to. Surely you can't have expected me not to change?'

'Of course I knew you'd change,' he snapped, 'I thought I'd never see you again. I had to remember you how you _were_, because that was the only you I had left. We've had time apart from each other. It was difficult, of course it was, and we changed. I'm just...'

'Just what?' she interrupted, foundations of anger starting to bloom. 'You want the old me, is that it?'

'No!' he growled, weaving his fingers into his thick hair, exasperated. 'No, no, no, that's not what I'm trying to say.'

'Then what?'

'I'm worried,' he confessed, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes boring into hers. 'I'm worried that you'll have outgrown me. That you won't want a reflection of the man you used to know. What if that's not enough for you? What if you've got new dreams?'

Rose couldn't help the slightly hysterical laugh from escaping her mouth. 'Don't be daft. Why would I break through into a different universe if I'd outgrown you? I _need_ to be with you. All that stuff I saw, all the stuff you showed me, all the places we went....you changed my life.'

The Doctor looked at her for a long moment, his eyes thick with tears, shining in the streetlights. 'We can't have that anymore, Rose. That's gone. I...I'm gone.'

'You're right here,' she whispered, closing the gap between them, her fingers fisting the lapels of his jacket.

The fabric was cool beneath her hands, and his face was inches away. Their breath twisted and danced in the cool air between their mouths. He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any doubt. Less than twenty four hours ago, they had been on a plane from Norway, sitting in silence as they flew back to London. They had not spoken for the entire journey, nor had they touched. Rose felt as though she hadn't slept in years.

The Doctor closed his eyes in resignation, sighing, his hands resting lightly on her hips. They seemed so warm through the fabric of her jeans. She hadn't felt the touch of his hands in the so long. It didn't matter that they were too warm, or that they were trembling slightly; they were his.

'Do you believe me?' she breathed out, searching for his eyes once more.

It took him a while to readjust his gaze back to hers, but when he did she could see the acceptance that was there. He nodded, his damp fringe brushing her forehead gently.

'Good,' Rose approved. 'No matter what life we had before, this is the one we have now. A normal life.'

Rose couldn't control the small pang of longing for life in the TARDIS, running for their lives, weaving their way through the stars. It was a hunger deep within her to escape, and to feel that excitement again.

The Doctor looked reluctant. 'I don't know if I can do it; a normal life.'

'You can,' Rose reassured, searching for his hands, which now hung limply by his sides. She gave them a quick squeeze, the warm skin pleasant in her palms. 'We both can; together.'

The look which he held her with intensified, becoming almost too much to bear. 'What if we don't have to?' he asked, searching her face. 'What if I told you, right now, that the TARDIS was just around the corner, and that we could have that life again?'

Rose knew deep down that he would know if she lied. 'I'd want to go,' she confessed. 'But she's not. She's a world away.'

The Doctor swallowed, looking slightly sheepish.

'Doctor?' she asked, frowning.

'He gave me a piece of the TARDIS,' he blurted out, breaking away from her gaze. 'Before we left. The other...me. It's a complex mix of minerals and energy patterns and...Well never mind, it's the TARDIS needless to say. I have a piece of her with me. I can grow another TARDIS from that...'

'Wait!' Rose felt numb. 'You can grow...another TARDIS?'

The Doctor hesitated. 'It will take time...but, yes.'

'And you thought that this wasn't worth mentioning, I spose?' she growled, stepping back from him slightly and folding her arms across her chest.

Behind the annoyance, her stomach was doing a rather elaborate dance. She could feel the tears of happiness welling behind her eyes at the thought of being out there in the stars again. Exploring and running, with the Doctor. Their life wasn't gone; it was just out of reach for the moment.

'I had to know what you wanted,' he explained, looking wary.

'If I wanted a normal, human life...' she asked, not wanting to know the answer, 'would you have stayed with me? Here on earth? Would you put the piece of the TARDIS away in a drawer and forget about it, and we could grow old together?'

The Doctor said nothing.

'Didn't think so,' she snorted, looking away.

She barely had time to register the growl of her name before his mouth was upon hers, hot and hard, his hand cupping the back of her head. She gave a small whimper of surprise, which quickly melted away into passion as she returned the kiss enthusiastically. Suddenly the air seemed so cold, and he seemed so warm against her lips. Rose pushed herself into him at the urging of his hands, winding her arms around his neck tightly, pulling herself up against his kiss, trying to bury her entire being within his warmth. His lips were too soft for her to comprehend, and she could feel the slight scratch of his stubble against her skin, making her shiver.

He gave a small moan against her mouth, before pulling back.

Rose immediately felt the loss of his mouth, her lips tingling in the cool air. He released her entirely, and Rose hung next to him, confused as he once again turned to stare at the Powell Estate.

'Why can't you understand that I want this life with you? What do I have to do to convince you? If you said to me that you wanted a normal human life, of course I would stay with you. _Of course_ I would.'

'But I'd always know, wouldn't I?' she shivered, wanting the warmth of his body. 'I'd always know that you'd want to be up there; deep down, that your heart wasn't in the life that we were having.'

The Doctor seemed to have no response.

She looked up at the sky, the familiar sense of longing filling her stomach. The night was too cloudy to see any stars, but she could feel them, sitting there just out of reach, filled with wonder and promise. Her eyes welled up in the night air. All that life lingering out there, ready to be explored.

She sidled up to him, grasping his hand tightly in hers. 'You can take us back up there?' she whispered, almost pleadingly. 'Doctor?'

He grinned, and it cut through the foggy air like the brightest light. 'Oh yes,' he told her.

Rose couldn't help the laughter of delight from bursting free, and soon he was joining her in delight. He threw his arms around her waist and tugged, hoisting her into her air, spinning her around in the cold air. She squealed and swung her feet playfully, clinging to his broad shoulders.

It was utterly absurd; she was outside the old estate, with a human version of the Doctor, in his arms, their laughter ringing around the empty courtyard. And despite the cold, her heart was warmer than it had been in years. The Doctor gave a small grunt of effort with holding her entire weight, but still did not set her on her feet, his chuckles reverberating deep within her.

'Oi, mate! Get a room!'

The loud, slurred shout was followed by a series of drunken howls. Rose ignored them as they passed, burying her face more securely in the Doctor's shoulder. He gently set her back on her feet but did not relinquish his hold around her waist.

'Anywhere, Rose; we can go anywhere!' he enthused into her ear, before releasing her with a quick squeeze and looking up into the sky. 'A few short months and we'll be back up there, I promise. Oh, Rose, the second moon of Zysoon, the asteroid belt of Galaxy Five, the whole universe!'

Rose laughed from her stomach, happier than she had ever been. She clapped her hands in delight and followed him as he bounded across the courtyard, pointing at various spots in the sky. He looked more like the Doctor than she had seen since they had arrived here. For the first time, she could see that true glimmer of wonder fill his eyes.

The Doctor pointed at a spot in the clouds, which she followed with her eyes, grinning widely. 'See that? Me neither...but anyway that's the great light display of the Adora Alliance; lasts a hundred thousand years. If it happens in this universe, of course...' he broke off, looking slightly downbeat.

'I'm sure they do,' Rose reassured, not wanting him to lose this sudden burst of delightful energy. She gave his warm hand a tight squeeze and he grinned down at her.

He gave a light chuckle and pulled her closer, placing a warm, brief kiss on her forehead. Rose smiled into his jacket.

'Where else?' she whispered.

'Anywhere, Rose!' he repeated. 'Providing that I don't mess up the growth stage of the new TARDIS, that is. But why would I? I'm brilliant.' He winked at her.

Oh God, the look was back; his face was drooping slightly, his eyes glazing over. Rose felt her heart sink; it had taken her so long to get him to even crack a smile. He dug his hand into the pockets of his coat and seemed to be rummaging for something.

'A new TARDIS,' he said thoughtfully, sadness tinting the edges of his voice.

'A part of the old one, you said,' Rose corrected, squeezing his hand encouragingly.

'Not the same thing,' he smiled down at her sadly. 'I can still feel her, though, because of this...'

He drew his hand from inside his pocket, grasping something tightly in his clutch. When he opened his hand, Rose saw that it was a small cluster of yellow rock, glittering slightly in the streetlights. At a glance, Rose would have called it sandstone. It looked similar to the material which the beams in the old TARDIS' interior were constructed of. The edges were rough. As she watched, the small piece of rock seemed to pulse, sending waves of golden light into the fog around them. Listening carefully, Rose was certain that she could hear a slight, lulling hum.

'Can _you_ feel her?' his eyes flashed down to hers once more, filled with wonder.

Rose frowned. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt as though she could indeed feel a slight nudge at the back of her mind. A weak, baby push compared to what she used to feel in the old TARDIS, but the same kind of touch. Rose nodded and smiled at the Doctor, who was holding her gaze with proud, watery eyes.

'You miss her,' Rose stated.

'Yes,' he agreed, 'so much.'

Rose could imagine the hole which the loss of the TARDIS would have left within him. She had felt the loss years ago when she had first been trapped here. The Doctor had, of course, been the main source of loss, but she had still felt the absence of his beloved ship, lingering in her suddenly silent mind.

'I missed you,' she whispered, rubbing her nose against the fabric of his jacket. It wasn't the same feel as his old brown suit, but the blue fabric held his familiar scent, perhaps a little muskier than usual. 'It feels...I dunno..._weird_ that it really happened. I got back to you, I found you, and...We can just pick up where we left off? Can we really? I mean...you're human now. Doesn't that, I dunno, limit us or something?'

The Doctor looked uncomfortable and said, 'Well, I won't be leaping off the sides of buildings or swallowing any knives, that's for sure. And I'll have to sleep every...eighteen hours? Gosh, that's a bit naff. Don't know how you do it if I'm honest...'

Rose bit her lip, feeling shy about her next question. 'Doctor?'

'Hmm?' he asked, once again studying the piece of the TARDIS with interest.

'While you're...growing the TARDIS...we're stuck here, yeah?'

'That's right,' he agreed, grimacing slightly.

'And we can...have a normal life for a while?' she asked lightly. 'Do...human things?'

'Anything you like,' he agreed distractedly.

Rose certainly wasn't going to blatantly mention the issue of sleeping arrangements, and since he didn't seem to be cottoning on in the slightest, she decided to drop the issue with a sigh. He didn't notice, but he put the piece of the TARDIS back in his pocket and drew her closer with a gentle tug on her hand. Oh, how she'd missed his hands. She'd missed the rough feel of his fingers around the back of her hand, fidgeting slightly, but still steady and secure.

'How will you grow a new one?' she asked, curious.

'Oh, soak the piece of coral in a cocktail of chemicals. The right PH and temperature, leave it for a few months under surveillance and bang, boom, she'll be ready for a test run. Nothing too difficult, obviously. A little hop to the nineties, a few trips to the moon; lovely stuff.'

'Can't wait,' she agreed, the infectious grin spreading across her face again. 'Hope you appreciate all the effort it took to get back to you.'

'Oh, I do,' he grinned, before waggling a long finger in her face. 'Although, very, very dangerous. New rule; no breaking down the walls of the universe, Rose Tyler.'

'Whoops, sorry,' she teased.

She felt more herself than she ever had. She was Rose again; the same girl who was amongst the stars all those years ago. Without even evidence of a transition she had gone from the shadow of herself that she had been previously, back into someone who had a soul. The Doctor held that power, she realised. He held the key to her very essence. It seemed almost impossibly lucky that he was here, and that they were both safe.

With that thought in mind, she grasped his hand in both of hers, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

His face had, once again, become pensive. She sighed; perhaps the mood swings would settle down as he grew accustomed to his human emotions?

'It's strange, Rose, being human. Don't know how you do it,' he admitted, running a hand through his damp hair. 'All these weird little emotions running around. And one heart, that's just weird.'

'You'll get used to it,' she poked him gently in the ribs.

She realised the unwitting cruelty of his words as he winced.

'I just meant...well, this is you now, and that's great. You're still him,' she finished lamely.

The Doctor paused, looking at her doubtfully, before saying, 'yeah.'

He took a deep, bracing breath and nodded, a little more surely than before. 'Yes, I'm still the Doctor. Just a little less...'

'A little less nothing. Don't you dare try and say you're less than him.'

Rose knew that her motivational speech was for herself as much as it was for him. She had spent the past few hours grappling with the idea that he was the same man, and that he was the man that she wanted. The exact same man, she had told herself, just a different species.

'God, I missed you.'

She spoke the words just before grapping him by the lapels and pulling him down, once again, to her lips. He muffled a surprised moan against her mouth, obviously alarmed by her sudden attack. She was trying so desperately to drown out that little voice of doubt; trying to erase the images of the brown-suited Doctor leaving and focus only on this Doctor staying. They were going to have their own life in the stars.

He took a while to lift his hands from their useless position at his sides and place them firmly in the small of her back. He gave her a little tug towards him, pulling her flush against his chest. With a small noise of mock-annoyance at his manhandling of her, she broke off from the kiss and rubbed her nose gently against his. He hastily recaptured control of her lips, breathing heavily through his nose. They needed this; she realised. Whether or not it was too soon, or if they were simply using each other for the moment to heal the wounds of the day. It didn't matter because the same lips that she had spent years missing were kissing her, slow and steady, and so very real.

He broke the kiss this time, whispering against her cheek. 'Rose,' his voice was hot against her skin. 'We're getting ahead of ourselves.'

'Are we?' Rose asked thickly, disappointment washing through her.

She had, in the past few seconds, began to entertain the idea of taking him back to her flat and locking him in the bedroom for a good twelve hours at least. But, like water through cupped hands, the chances of that seemed to be growing slimmer by the second.

'There will be plenty of time for us, Rose, don't you worry,' the Doctor tapped her on the nose gently and she raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

'Give me a few months, Rose,' he continued, 'I'll bring it all back. The TARDIS, the world, the universe. We'll be up there soon, I promise, because that's exactly where we belong.'

'I'll hold you to that,' she promised, waving a threatening finger in his face.

Rose realised, as they stood in the reflection of her old estate, where it all began all those years ago, that this was not the end of their time. It was the beginning; a new, beautifully clear beginning, that was stretched so gloriously with possibility that she felt her body might soon go into shock due to sudden, overwhelming happiness.

The Doctor and Rose stood, the fog encasing them gently, and turned the first page of their new story.

To be continued...

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**I have to admit to being very excited at writing this new story! I really love the idea of the Human Doctor and Rose picking up where they left off, because I'm just soft like that ;)**

**If you enjoyed, please leave a review! I'm would greatly appreciate feedback and encouragement to continue.**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Stranded

**I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter One: Stranded

Rose Tyler wished she had a camera.

She snorted in amusement as she took him in; the Doctor was overflowing from her tiny sofa, his long limbs dangling over the sides. His head was lolling at a bizarre angle over the plush arm, his hair pushed back by gravity, his mouth open as he slept soundly despite his strange positioning. His snores echoed around the flat, heavy and loud. He hadn't changed from his suit, despite her advice last night that he should remove it to save it from creasing. His jacket was unbuttoned, half of it trapped beneath him, twisting his arms uncomfortably.

Rose looked at the time; it was half past seven in the morning, the light streaming through the thin curtains, and the sound of traffic zooming past as London woke up. She leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom and watched the Doctor.

She had toyed with the idea of asking him to stay with her last night, but as he had settled himself on the sofa, enthusing about how comfortable in was and kicking off his shoes, she had bottled it. She had slept alone in her wide bed, trying not to think about the prospect of dragging him under the sheets with her and wrapping herself around him. She had found it better to not think about it at all; the thoughts only made her grow frustrated. Still, there had been no harm in shaving her legs when she had arrived back at her flat with him last night...

Rose thought back to their visit to the Powell Estate last night and let a grin spread across her face; he was going to build them a new TARDIS. All they had to do is waiting for a little while.

Perhaps he sensed her staring at him, because he soon began to stir, mumbling incoherently into the fabric of the sofa. His leg gave an almighty twitch, seemingly of its own accord, and she had to suppress a bark of laughter. His dark eyes blinked at her blearily, confused and dazed at their surroundings, before settling on her. Rose pulled her large t-shirt further down over her exposed legs and suddenly wished she'd thought more about her choice of nightwear.

He seemed to be focusing more securely on her. The Doctor croaked, 'R-Rose?'

'Morning,' she sniggered. 'Sleep well?'

'Erghh,' he gurgled. 'That was how humans sleep? Kill me now.'

'Guessing not,' she murmured, crossing the room to the kitchen which was built into the corner. She could sense him watching her.

Rose heard the shuffle of him getting up from the sofa but continued making the tea, telling herself not to look around.

'What's that?' she heard his voice right behind her.

'It's a tea-maker,' she explained, trying to focus on the device. 'They don't have teabags in this universe. You stick tea leaves in this section here...' she demonstrated, 'and water here...' she filled the next section with water, 'and switch it on.'

'No _tea bags_?' he asked, sounding scandalised. 'At all?'

'Nope,' she told him.

'That's just wrong!' he exclaimed, making her jump slightly. He opened a random cupboard next to him, peering into it as though he would find a box of teabags and prove that she lying.

'First order of business, Rose; I'll _make_ you some teabags,' he promised her seriously.

'My hero,' she giggled, pouring the tea into two mugs and handing him one of them. The Doctor immediately set it down after one sip and searched for the sugar, locating it with a triumphant yell and proceeding to pour copious amounts into the brown liquid. Rose winced as she took another sip, evidently satisfied.

He drained his cup in silence as Rose took tiny sips, pondering him. His bed hair had not yet settled, and he didn't look well-rested. He rummaged around her cupboards with fascination, peering closely at brands of food that he had evidently never heard of, sometimes tasting things. Rose left him to it, facing the kitchen counter with a small sigh. Her flat was capable of housing them both with ease; it was average sized, paid for out of her own money she had earned by working for Torchwood. It had taken a little while to save up; the initial few months living in Pete Tyler's overbearingly large mansion had been hell. She had felt uncomfortable in the overly luxurious house. Her mum, on the other hand, had taken to the role of mistress of the house with worrying ease.

So suddenly that it made her jump slightly, Rose felt the Doctor behind her. His large, warm hands came to rest in the dip of her waist, his thumbs stroking gentle circles through the cotton of her t-shirt. She shivered as she felt his nose against her hair, inhaling deeply.

'What you doing?' she frowned.

'Smelling you,' he replied, his voice indicating that he was deep in thought.

'Any particular reason why?'

'Things smell different as a human...' he told her factually. 'You smell odd; not like Rose. Why...do you want me to stop?'

As he asked the question, he moved his attentions to the back of her neck, pressing his face securely into her skin as he learned her scent. Rose shivered as his warm breath scattered the fine hairs at the nape of her neck, his lips brushing the skin with barely perceptible pressure. She wasn't even entirely sure that he was doing this intentionally, but she was certainly enjoying it. His lips moved again, trailing down the curve of her neck, not kissing, but trailing lightly. She felt a gasp escape her lips and flushed.

'Rose?'

'Hmm?' she closed her eyes.

'Your tea's getting cold.'

And then he was gone, back to pulling things out of her cupboards again. Rose gaped in disbelief, annoyance washing through her. She pulled her tea towards her and drained the cup, muttering to herself. 'Nutter.'

'Hmm,' he replied, not listening.

'I'm gonna go and see Mum later...' she began, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. 'Fancy coming along?'

Rose was a little worried that she was straying into the domestic; something which had always scared him. She had clung to him by living an extraordinary life.

'Go on, then,' he agreed absently. 'Why though? Jackie knows what I look like.'

Rose bit her lip, and said, 'well, you haven't met Tony yet...he'd love to meet you.'

The Doctor looked up, his expression slightly worried. 'Is that a problem?' she asked, biting her lip and frowning.

'No,' he said at once, 'no! Of course not. I'd like to meet him. Can't not meet your little brother can I?'

He took out a tube of salt and rattled it next to his ear, as though he was expecting to hear something of value.

'Half brother,' she corrected. 'Same genetic parents. Weird, right?'

'I wouldn't expect anything less than weird from your Mother.'

'Oi!' she protested, as he began to sniff a can of baked beans.

She snatched the food from him and stuffed it hastily back into the cupboards, shutting the door and shooting a glare at him. He looked startled and raised his hands in apology. 'Sorry...was I not supposed to touch that?'

'I've got to eat all this at some point,' she shot back. 'Stop fiddling with it.'

'Right,' he agreed, nodding, his eyes wide, his hair wild. 'Just...new universe, new body...bit restless.'

Rose sighed and leaned against the counter. The past few days were coming back to her as she took in the various things scattered around her flat; the magazine she had dropped on the floor when she had scrambled to the phone call told her she could finally go through the wall of the universe properly. The hastily kicked off slippers as she had scrambled to find her sturdy boots. The emotions came flooding back; less than three days ago, she had been without the Doctor, fighting what had seemed like a hopeless war. Alone. And Mickey was gone again; her constant friend throughout all this.

And now the Doctor she had searched for had both left her and stayed. She was torn between complete joy and utter betrayal, unable to pick one or the other. So her stomach had settled into a heavy, confused ache which was growing worse by the second. It would be better, she told herself, once they were travelling again.

'Rose?' he was in front of her, his dark eyes wide and concerned.

'I'm alright,' she murmured, avoiding his tempting gaze.

He gently took her hands, pulling her from her leaning position to stand upright. And then his arms were around her, so achingly familiar that the tides of emotion welled up and broke the floodgates. She let the Doctor hold her as she cried quietly into his shoulder, the occasional sob breaking the silence. He stayed still and sturdy against her, as he had always done, his hands gently cupping the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing the sensitive little dip just under the swell of her skull. She shivered into the skin of his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

That made her smile a little. 'You need a shower,' she commented.

'Ah, yes,' he agreed. 'That'll be my newly developed human glands... bit hyperactive at the moment.'

Rose wrinkled her nose in distaste and giggled, breaking free from his grip and giving him a sharp shove towards the bathroom.

As soon as he was gone and the roaring echo of the water had begun, Rose rang her mum, eager to hear her familiar voice. The phone rang twice, and then; 'Hello?'

'Mum,' she sighed in relief.

'Oh Rose, sweetheart!' Jackie enthused. 'Are you alright? Has he gone insane? Do you need me to come over with Pete? Shall we bring help?'

'Mum!' she cut through her mother's frantic ramblings. 'Stop, I'm fine. The Doctor's fine. Everything's fine.'

'Oh, thank goodness!' Jackie sighed, and Rose heard her move the phone away from her mouth and shout into the expanses of her large house 'Pete! It's alright, she hasn't been attacked!'

Rose rolled her eyes. 'I'm going to come over later, Mum,' she said.

'Oh, lovely, sweetheart!' Jackie exclaimed, her voice shrill. 'Pete's having some work colleges over. I'm sure they'll love to see you again. You've been all cooped up with that secret project for so long now. Still, it's done with now, eh?'

Rose's heart sank; she wasn't in the mood for speaking to fellow Torchwood employees, and she was sure that the Doctor wouldn't be enthusiastic about the prospect. Still, she had already planted the seed in Jackie's mind; there was no going back now.

'Sounds great,' Rose agreed sullenly.

Jackie lowered her voice a little. 'Rose,' she began. 'He hasn't tried anything funny has he? 'Cause he might have been asexual or what-have-you when he was an alien...but he's a normal bloke now...and well, you never know.'

'Mum!' Rose protested, her face reddening.

'Don't you 'mum' me,' Jackie replied. 'Just you two be careful. Anyway, I'll speak to you later, darling; we're going out for breakfast.'

Rose had been hoping for a longer conversation, but she said goodbye with a sigh and hung up, running a hand through her bed-hair.

She had always been incredibly fond of her flat, with its one, large kitchen-lounge space. There were two doors leading off; one into her bedroom, the other into the bathroom, in which the Doctor was currently showering. The wallpaper was peeling as she had had no time to redecorate, and the furniture was mismatched, but it was home. Creative chaos, she liked to call it, and it seemed oddly fitting, especially now that the Doctor was here with her.

Suddenly inspired, Rose rummaged in the cupboard next to her, letting out a triumphant cry when she located the newly purchased shirt that she had been intending to give to Pete, her adopted father of sorts. She crossed to the bathroom and gently clicked the door open, the sound of the running shower masking her presence. Once she had placed the shirt in a place where the Doctor would notice it, along with fresh towels, she left.

It wasn't long before the rushing of the water stopped, and Rose tried very hard to look engrossed in her magazine as she heard the bathroom door open. It was no good; the muscles in her neck worked in spite of her and she looked up at him.

The Doctor's hair was soaking wet, sticking up in manic directions, and his face was flushed from the heat of the shower. He paused in the door, the morning light washing over him, a towel flung around his neck to stop his hair dripping down onto the new shirt. The shirt looked good on him, she decided; plain white, clinging to the right parts of his shoulders.

Rose turned back to her magazine, trying to appear unaffected. 'Does it fit alright?'

'It's fine, yeah, brilliant,' he told her, approaching the sofa which she was perched on. Rose succeeded in not looking up. 'Whose is it?'

Rose snorted in amusement. 'Jealous are we?' she mocked. 'Worried I have...' she turned the page of the magazine nonchalantly 'loads of male guests round here?'

'Oh, no,' he replied. 'Lots of male visitors; fine, fine. What I want to know is...' he paused for a moment 'do t_hey_ appreciate your unique talent of reading without moving your eyes across the page? It's remarkable.'

'Oh, shut up,' she grumped, tossing the magazine in his face. He dodged it playfully, a broad smile stretched across his face.

Rose folded her arms and stared unseeingly in any direction that he wasn't in. 'You're making fun of me,' she complained, trying to suppress the smile.

'Are you pouting, Rose Tyler?' He appeared in front of her, the infuriatingly delicious grin still plastered firmly on his face.

He knelt in front of her on the sofa, just in front of her knees. She nudged him gently, trying with very little conviction to make him move. He stayed put, placing his hands gently on her bare knees for support, stilling her movements. Heat rushed through her from where his skin brushed against hers.

'Was that a smile?' he asked, feigning shock.

'Nope,' she replied, trying to arrange her face.

'It was a smile,' he joked back, rubbing his thumbs gently across the sensitive skin of her knees. 'Right..._there_.'

Before Rose could process that he had moved, the Doctor was leaning over her, his wet hair brushing over her face and neck, nuzzling with the purpose of making her as damp as possible. She shrieked and tried to push him away, unable to contain the laughter that spilled from her mouth. His hands still leaned heavily on her knees for support and Rose grabbed his head in an effort to stop his attack. This made him double the onslaught, digging his fingers in her sides and tickling her mercilessly. She gasped for breath, the laughter coming in tiring little puffs.

His movements stilled and she sighed happily, clutching the thin shirt fabric at his sides. He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead, then her temple. Rose let the wide smile cross her face and tilted her face towards his. He took the hint and kissed her, barely touching her lips, and it was so maddening that she grabbed the back of his neck and crushed his mouth against her own. She barely even noticed the cold dripping of his hair.

It was the first time, she realised, that they had kissed simply for the sake of it. All of the other kisses had been to prove loyalty or to celebrate their reunion. This was heavenly; his hands gently cupped her jaw as she leaned over her and the brush of his blue suit-trousers over her bare legs. He settled more firmly on the seat next to her, never breaking the kiss. Rose brought her legs up over his, pleased when one of his hands rested on her calf.

She suddenly became aware that her nightshirt had ridden up to the extent that her knickers were fully on display and broke the kiss, taking a moment to pull the hem down the cover herself, suddenly self-conscious.

Rose realised that she had let herself get carried away in the rush of sensation; everything amplified by the little amount of clothing she wore. It was clouding her judgement and making everything feel so much more delicious. But, as the Doctor had said last night, they were getting ahead of themselves.

'I should get dressed,' she whispered, rubbing her nose against his. 'We'll go to Mum's soon; it'll take a while in traffic. We can spend some time with Tony while we wait for them to get back.'

He made a non committal noise as she pushed herself up from the sofa and headed towards her room.

'Don't worry,' Rose called to him. 'Tony's great; he's just like Mum!'

'That's what I was afraid of...'

* * *

'Oh, Miss Tyler! We weren't expecting you so soon! Can I take your coat? Something to drink? A snack? Some breakfast? Lunch? Brunch?'

Carol - the overbearing, overenthusiastic member of the cooking staff that had been one of the reasons that Rose had almost gone insane when she had lived here – had not lost any of her vigour. As soon as she and the Doctor had entered the Tyler mansion from the mid-winter chill outside, she had attracted the attention of the small, dumpy woman who looked to be in her late twenties.

'I'm fine, thanks, Carol...'

Carol noticed the Doctor standing next to her. 'Hello, sir, can I get you something? Are you staying with Miss Tyler today? Can I get you anything? Lunch? Brunch? A hot drink?'

The Doctor raised his eyes, the initial fear seeming to evaporate. He leaned forwards conspiratorially. 'What's the difference between lunch and brunch?'

Carol looked excited. 'Well, sir, brunch is more breakfast based than lunch, so we tend to include more breakfast foods and drinks such as toast, orange juice, that sort of thing. Whereas lunch is generally more sandwich-based – although if you like we can bring you a mixture of both lunch and brunch?'

The Doctor looked enthusiastic at the prospect, but Rose cut him off before he could say anything. 'He'll be fine, thanks Carol.'

Carol hurried off, her heels clipping on the polished wooden floor. The large entrance hall was overly lavish and reeked of her Mother's taste. Two staircases twisted on either side, leaving another large space in between. The mansion had always seemed strange and haunting to Rose; she had never slept well at night here. She had been born and raised in enclosed, humble spaces, and it was a habit which she found hard to break. Then of course, there was also the overbearingly helpful staff; Carol being a prime example. Jackie had taken to Carol immediately.

'Rose!'

The sound of her little brother's shrill voice echoing in the large house made her feel instantly more at home. Tony was still clad in his pyjamas, clutching a small plastic spaceship as she flew towards them as fast as his four-year old legs would carry him. His sandy-coloured hair was messed up and he flung himself at her, jumping into her arms.

Rose caught him easily and hauled him up onto her hip with a mock-groan of effort. 'God, you're getting big! You'll be lifting me up soon!'

Tony gave her a sarcastic look. 'Don't be a silly-billy, Rose.'

She heard the Doctor give a loud snort of amusement and shot him a look. Tony twisted in her arms and looked around at the Doctor, who gave him a quick wink.

'Tony...' Rose began. 'This is the Doctor.'

Tony's little, smooth face lit up. 'The _Doctor_?' he practically screamed, bouncing excitedly to the point where it became challenging to hold him. 'From the stories?!'

The Doctor looked startled at his celebrity status, but smiled at her brother nonetheless. 'Nice to meet you, Tony.' He reached out a large hand and shook Tony's small hand gently.

Tony was still quivering relentlessly with excitement, clutching his spaceship. 'Are we gonna go on an adventure?' he asked, looking between the Doctor and Rose with eyes as wide as orbs.

'Hmm, well that depends,' Rose told him seriously, 'on whether you eat your veg tonight. You can't save the world without vitamins.'

'But Rose!' Tony whined, his face falling slightly.

'No buts!' Rose cut across, and he began to ram the spaceship into her shoulder with a pout on his face. 'Doctor's orders, right?'

The Doctor smiled lightly. 'Oh, absolutely,' he said, nodding. 'Never used to let Rose out of the TARDIS if she hadn't finished her broccoli.'

Tony giggled and looked at the Doctor, halting his attack on Rose's shoulder. 'Really? Rose didn't wanna eat veg too?'

'Oh, she used to kick and scream,' the Doctor told him, ignoring Rose's extremely strong glare. 'It was all chips this and chips that.'

'Oi!' Rose warned. The Doctor looked thoroughly amused, and Tony was in fits of giggles.

Rose frowned; they had already ganged up on her.

'Oh, sweetheart, you're here already!'

The front doors had opened, and Jackie and Pete Tyler had entered, shrugging off their thick coats. Rose set Tony down gently and ran to meet her mum, who immediately gathered her into her arms. Pete sent Rose a wink over her mother's shoulder and she smiled at him. She buried her face in her soft, warm shoulder and held on, closing her eyes.

'Rose, I was so worried when you disappeared like that the other night!' Jackie accused. 'Still, at least you found him, eh? Where was he in the end?'

'Doesn't matter,' Rose mumbled, knowing that Jackie would find it odd if she admitted that they paid a visit to the Powel Estate.

'Come on, Rose,' her Mum patted her back gently. 'We'll have a chat.'

Jackie led her across the large entrance towards the lounge door. Rose hesitated. 'What about...' She looked towards the Doctor and Tony, who seemed to be engaged in conversation about Tony's spaceship. 'Never mind. They'll be alright.'

Rose soon found herself being plonked into one of the plush armchairs, Jackie sitting opposite her with a concerned frown. 'Oh, Rose, it's been a weird few days, I know.'

Rose nodded and swallowed. 'Nothing's normal when it comes to the Doctor, I suppose.'

'Never a dull moment; I'll give him that,' Jackie agreed, nodding.

'It's weird, Mum,' Rose admitted. 'Because he's here, and he's staying, but at the same time...the Doctor that I knew all those years ago...he left without a goodbye. I mean, is he here, or isn't he?'

'No one can tell you that, sweetheart,' Jackie said. 'You're gonna have to find that out for yourself. Only you can know if it's really him.'

'But I don't,' Rose admitted. 'I haven't got a clue, Mum. It looks like him and it sounds like him...but we didn't have all those adventures together....not technically. But he remembers everything and thinks the same...so we did...'

Jackie smiled at her knowingly. 'Do you still love him?'

Rose swallowed dryly. 'Of course,' she whispered, looking at the floor.

'Then surely he can't be so different, eh?'

'The Doctor...before he left...he said that this new Doctor was like he was when we first met...I haven't seen that yet. He seems the same...' Rose said. 'I'm worried that he's bottling it all up, and that it's going to all burst out one day.'

'Well it can't be easy, having to just have a human life when you've got an alien mind?' Jackie suggested.

Rose swallowed, on the verge of telling her Mum about their plans for a not-so-human life, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to make Jackie angry; and she would be. She had waited enough for Rose all those years ago, and had been furious when Rose had put herself in further danger by joining Torchwood.

'We'll get used to it,' Rose offered ambiguously. 'At least we've got each other.'

'I'm so glad, sweetheart,' Jackie replied, sounding a little choked up. 'Don't take this for granted; it's not every day that you get a happy ending. I got mine too, but that shouldn't mean we should expect them.'

'I know, Mum,' Rose nodded. 'I really do know. And I do appreciate that he's here. It's just so confusing.'

'It'll all be clear one day,' Jackie smiled, reaching forwards to place a comforting hand over Rose's. 'I went through exactly what you did, remember? I spent god knows how many nights worrying over whether I was betraying your dad by loving this...new man that was still him. But then I realised, that this was life offering us a second chance. And, God, I loved him so much.'

Rose smiled through her tears and hastily changed the subject, eager to quell the tide of emotions. 'Who's coming tonight? You said some people from Torchwood were-?'

'Oh, Rose! It's gonna be great! We're throwing a little party for some of Pete's friends,' Jackie enthused, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of being hostess. 'All the trimmings; proper posh! I haven't had a party in so long.'

Rose rolled her eyes, her stomach sinking as she realised that 'a few friends' to Jackie probably meant most of the Torchwood staff. The Doctor wasn't up to facing so many people when he was so unsure about himself, surely? They would all ask about him with vigour; the famous Doctor, suddenly in this universe? She would have to explain the predicament...

Jackie leaned forwards conspiratorially. 'Rose...keep the Doctor away from Jenny Walsh tonight; I hear she's on the prowl since her husband left her. She'll scare him something silly; you know what she's like, never closes her legs, the silly cow.'

Rose raised an eyebrow. 'Oh yeah, I'm sure the Doctor will be taken in by her womanly charms, Mum,' she replied sarcastically.

'You might laugh, missy,' Jackie frowned. 'But you never know; might be what he goes after now he's a bloke. I'd keep my eye on him.'

Rose snorted in laughter. 'He's still not an ordinary man, you know, Mum.'

'Obviously,' Jackie sniffed. 'Or he would've been all over you as soon as the other one dropped you off on the beach! Then again, you both were having a bit of trouble keeping your hands off each other.'

'Mum!' Rose protested, her face colouring.

'All I'm saying is - keep an eye on him,' Jackie offered. 'Plenty of women who'd take advantage of him.'

Rose had to laugh. 'He's not a blushing, virgin girl of fourteen, Mum,' she snorted.

'You laugh now, young lady,' Jackie wagged a finger at her, winking. 'But don't complain to me when I'm right.'

They collapsed into giggles, and talked as the sun grew higher outside, the day getting underway. It was nice just to sit and chat to her mum without anything hanging over her head. Except for the one little secret that she was keeping; the new TARDIS.

Still, Rose tried to clear her mind of it for the moment, also trying desperately to shake off the lingering image of the Doctor getting taken advantage of by scary, broad shouldered Torchwood women...

* * *

'Stop squirming!'

'I can't help it; this is a dreadful suit.'

Tony had been sent to bed long ago. The small gathering that Jackie had mentioned had in fact been a formal gathering of nearly two-hundred employees and friends. They milled about, dressed up in fancy black dresses and tuxedos, happily munching on small party nibbles and draining champagne glasses. Rose had been sidetracked throughout the night, asked many penetrating questions, and had frequently had to excuse herself rather rudely simply to get away from them. The Doctor had been subject to many curious glances, especially when he introduced himself. Rose suspected that they all had a basic understanding of what had happened; otherwise there would have been considerably more questions.

The Doctor and Rose were perched at the top of one of the staircase, sitting heavily on the top step, hiding from the hordes of guests below. The party had been going for two hours, and Rose's heels were beginning to make her believe that feet actually could fall off. The Doctor loosened the neck of his borrowed tuxedo irritably, making faces. Rose had donned a knee-length, black dress; which wasn't her favourite choice of clothing by far. She had hoped that the gathering would just be a few guests, but deep down she had sensed the approach of this imminent, huge party. Jackie weaved her way through the crowds, stopping to talk to everyone.

Suddenly, Rose was reminded of the time they had been here before. Before it had all gone wrong.

As though reading her mind, the Doctor leaned over to her and muttered. 'At least she doesn't have a dog called Rose; then it would be bordering on eerily familiar.'

Rose snorted in amusement, turning to look at him.

He really was a sight to behold; slightly dishevelled due to trailing his hand through his hair so much in agitation and boredom. His tux was a nice fit but he had fiddled with it so much that it wasn't sitting straight anymore. Still, he looked temptingly rumpled in the way that only he could pull off. And, she had in fact, seen Jenny Walsh sizing him up throughout the night.

'This isn't right,' Rose muttered, looking at her hands. She sensed the Doctor tense beside her. 'This isn't us. It feels wrong.'

'Hmm, we should go undercover as serving staff,' the Doctor winked.

'I'm being serious,' Rose glared. 'I don't want this life; I never did.'

The Doctor's eye widened a little. 'I don't mean that I don't want this life with you,' she quickly backtracked. 'I just mean; this life that Mum's got. I'm not cut out for it. I don't even like champagne and...' she picked up a large prawn-type-thing on a skewer from the plate that she had settled next to her, 'whatever this is.'

The Doctor took it from her and popped it in his mouth. She made a face at him.

He then stood in one, fluid motion and held out a hand. Rose looked at it uncertainly. 'What?' she asked.

The Doctor sighed in exasperation. 'Stop asking questions, Rose, and just come on!'

A grin leaked across her face and she clutched his warm hand, allowing him to tug her up onto her feet. He led her down the staircases and led her through an intricate path, dodging the crowds of guests. Some of them tried to stop her and engage them in conversation, but the Doctor simply tugged her away silently.

Soon, they were out the front door, stepping into the cold air.

Rose shivered and moved closer to him. 'What are we doing out here?' she asked. 'It's freezing.'

'I'm bailing you out of jail, Rose,' the Doctor told her. 'You think you could be a bit more ungrateful?' He winked at her from the corner of his eye.

'Where are we gonna go?' she asked, her teeth chattering.

He slid his jacket off his shoulders and helped her manoeuvre her arms into the appropriate holes. Rose smiled in thanks and pulled it closer around her shoulders, breathing in the smell of him.

'To get some proper food,' he explained, pulling her along. 'Not a huge fan of king prawns on miniature wooden swords myself. And my new human stomach needs to be fed. Or I'll waste away. And then Pete's clothes will be an even worse fit than they are now. Imagine that.'

Rose laughed, her heels clipping against the long, gravelly drive as the Doctor tugged her further and further towards the street. It was pitch dark, and cars were zooming past. Her heels were burning the soles of her feet and her hand was trapped in the Doctor's as he practically forced her to jog down the street.

This was much more like it.

His hand was at the collar of his tux again, undoing the neat bowtie quickly. Rose took the large clip from her hair and let it fall down, warming her neck and shoulders marginally.

'Mum'll wonder where we've gone,' Rose pointed out.

'Listen to you, Rose Tyler, worrying what your Mother will think. It's like we've never met,' he snorted, tugging her around the corner.

Rose laughed and flew along with him, attracting curious stares. They neared a small square filled with shops, a small fountain sitting in the middle, filling the night air with the sound of water. The square was mostly empty, save for a few people with hoods up, lingering outside an abandoned old video-rental shop, surrounded by rowdy babble.

'Here we are then!' the Doctor exclaimed enthusiastically. 'This is what I'm talking about, Rose, right here!'

Rose smiled widely; they were stood outside a small chip-shop. The lights were bright inside, and a small, elderly woman peered at them suspiciously from behind the counter, her hair net too tight for her head. The Doctor dragged Rose inside, never relinquishing his grip on her hand.

'Two large portions of chips, please!' the Doctor asked the old woman.

The lady sized them up, looking mildly alarmed by the Doctor's enthusiasm. Rose smiled at her kindly and cuddled closer to the Doctor, turning her head into the shoulder of his shirt and inhaling deeply. She noticed that his skin under the skin felt goose bumped, and suddenly felt bad for taking his jacket; he felt the cold now as much as she did.

With the two portions of wrapped up chips resting on the counter in front of her, the old woman looked expectant. 'Oh God,' she realised. 'Have you got any money?'

'Nope,' the Doctor replied.

The old woman looked unimpressed.

It took a while to locate a five pound note, which turned out to be buried deep and crumpled within the Doctor's borrowed suit. They handed it over and took the chips, thanking the woman, who gave a grumbling, unintelligible response.

They sat down on the edge of the fountain, picking at their chips. The Doctor enthused at each mouthful, and had quickly gotten through half of the massive portion.

'Ah, chips!' he told her through a mouthful. 'You can't beat them. Four hundred and fifty five planets in this galaxy do chips, and non have them have beaten earth. Earth has the best chips. It's one of the reasons I love this planet so much; the chips.'

Rose grinned, and said, 'I knew you had to have an ulterior motive for saving us all the time; you just don't want the chips to stop coming.'

The Doctor laughed through his food, looking utterly adorable. 'You sussed me out, Rose; you always were brilliant like that.'

'Yep,' Rose agreed. 'I was.'

'Still are,' the Doctor corrected. Rose smiled.

He had, incredibly, finished the chips, and was now pinching hers. Rose was already full, and pushed the bag towards him. He took it with a grunt of thanks.

Rose laughed, unable to contain her amusement. 'So you're...adapting to life as a human?'

'I'm just glad that chips taste the same; could have been a total disaster.'

'We won't be doing this every night though,' Rose warned. 'Or you definitely won't fit into any of Pete's suits.'

The Doctor looked a little forlorn. He swallowed the last of the chips and said, 'I was thinking. I'll get started on the TARDIS tomorrow. We don't want to waste any time. I've estimated that it'll be three months before she can make journeys. It won't be anything extravagant though. And she'll look more like a cupboard than a TARDIS...'

'Doesn't matter,' Rose smiled. 'She'll be ours.'

The Doctor held her eyes for a moment. 'Yeah,' he agreed. 'Our TARDIS. Our new home.'

'I can't wait,' Rose admitted her voice a whisper. 'Three months seems like a long time now.'

'Three months together on earth,' the Doctor corrected.

'Yeah,' Rose smiled. 'That's not so bad at all.'

The Doctor smiled back, and rested his forehead gently against hers for a moment, before pulling back. Rose shivered, the cold attacking her underneath his jacket. He pulled her closer and she gratefully snuggled into his warmth. She felt him press a soft kiss onto the top of her head and fought the urge to lift her face.

'I don't know how to tell Mum,' Rose murmured. 'She's just got used to the idea of having me home. How can I tell her I'm running off again?'

'I'm sure she'll understand,' the Doctor told her gently. 'We can tell her nearer to the time, otherwise she'll worry.'

Rose nodded and searched for his hand. It was slightly greasy from the chips but she held it tightly regardless. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, and she squirmed slightly as he passed over hyper-sensitive skin.

And it hit her suddenly; what was missing.

Neither of them had spoken of love since they had gotten off the beach in Norway. She hadn't thought anything of it...

What if he didn't want to say it? What if he was simply placating her at the beach? Did he love her? Should she be the first to say the words again?

Rose held onto him tighter, the cold making her shudder as they sat, in ridiculously formal clothing, on the filthy wall of a fountain outside a chip-shop. Still, she felt more herself than she had done in a ridiculously long time. This was them; bizarre and nonsensical.

She pushed away thoughts of love and the future; right now, this was all she needed.

* * *

**I'm pleased with this chapter. Things will become more exciting as new TARDIS develops!**

**Please leave a review and tell me your thoughts!  
**


	3. The Distance from There to Here

**On a whim, I decided to continue with this rather sad-looking, abandoned fic and find myself quite enjoying it! To anyone who favourited and waited for a ridiculous amount of months, this is for you. Also, for Noisseau whose last review made me reconsider and continue with this. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Two: The Distance from There to Here

The next morning, Rose found him sitting up, surrounded by what _had _been her television.

Granted, she hadn't exactly been an avid viewer for the past few months, but to wake up and walk into her own lounge to see him practically swimming in a sea of tiny little metal parts came as a shock; she even screamed a soft little scream of horror. Nowhere was safe to walk; each part threatened her bare feet with sharp looking edges and nettle-like prongs.

And there he was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hair looking agitated and his shirtsleeves rolled up.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her voice ringing around the small room.

The Doctor visibly jumped at her angry tone, dropping the piece of metal he had been examining. He stared at her as though he didn't know what he'd done, looking around the room as though she could be speaking to someone else. "Me?" he asked, and seemed to regain his dignity, giving a haughty sniff. "I was trying to fix your television, if you must know. Really, Rose I thought you knew better than to buy something this poorly made. It's worse than Magpie's Televisions and _they_...were bad. Remember, Rose?"

Rose folded her arms across her chest, frowning at his attempt to soften her resolve with memories of the past. If anything, they made her angrier. "Don't you Magpie me; put all that back in the tele!" she told him firmly, getting a closer look at him. "God, look at you, have you had any sleep?"

He shrugged, and slotted two wires into a little black box, his eyes ringed with red and bloodshot. "Sleep? Nah, who needs it; I established that sleep is _bad_ last night, very bad – awake is good, I like being awake, there's more to do. Sleeping's for humans."

"But you're..." she began, and he cut her off with a look. The hand that she had been gesturing with fell limply to her side, and she didn't dare to finish the sentence.

"I'm what? Brilliant?" he babbled, and she worried for his state of mind. He must have been up all night, his mind active. "Oh, I know; wonderful, splendid, _wizard_. Rose, I'm fixing your television for you!"

"I...I can see that," she said, and tiptoed over the parts to him.

Crouching down in only her pyjamas and dressing gown, she tried to meet his eye. Sat on the coffee table next to him were all of the mugs she owned, each holding the blackest of black coffee stains at the bottom. Oh, brilliant; he was wired.

"I can't believe you drank this much," she muttered, sniffing one of the cups. It smelt like nothing less than half coffee, half water, and she detected the strong, sweet smell of sugar mingled somewhere in there. "Doctor, you need to go to sleep."

The Doctor sighed, and gave her a withering look. "We've been through this, Rose, pay attention. _Blondie_...oh, that was rude. Sorry."

Rose sighed, helplessly and took his face in her hands. His cheeks were scratchy with the grown of beard, and his skin was warm; flushed even. He looked so human, sitting on the floor with red, itchy, tired eyes and the slight, sweet smell of sweat lingered in the air around him. He watched her with wide eyes, pleading, like he needed her to tell him what to do – how to be human.

"You can't go all night without sleeping, Doctor," she told him firmly, sighed and settled next to him. "You great lump, what did you do that for? You know better than anyone that humans need sleep to survive."

"I'm _not_ human," he said firmly, and looked away from her to scrutinize a little bolt. Rose sighed and ran a hand through her morning-hair, not quite sure what she should do. "I'm not human and I can cope just fine without sleep. Besides, I need to fix your tele-"

"It's _not_ broken!" she said loudly; suddenly and surprised even herself. Her harsh words hovered in the air between them. The Doctor stared at the floor for a moment, and picked up some more parts, continuing to tinker despite her sudden outburst.

"Denial doesn't get the job done, Rose," he admonished, eerily cheerful, and tapped her once on the nose with a piece of the demolished remote control.

Maybe he was drunk.

She picked up a mug again, but couldn't smell any alcohol. He watched her sniff his empty beverage with that famous old _dribbled down the shirt_ expression, which hastily morphed into an_ I'm right, Rose_ smirk, followed by an infuriatingly patronizing _everything will be just fine _smile. Rose folded her arms and glared back. Like she was the one with the problems.

"I can't live here, Rose," he cried out suddenly, and dropped what he was working on. "I _cannot_ live here."

"What do you mean?" she asked, panicked.

She felt every insecurity; every worry that she had ever had that she wasn't enough for him come to a head. The nights she had lain awake asking the question; _even if she did find him, would he want her back?_

"This flat, Rose," he said, a little too forcefully, and she saw a vein begin to throb in his forehead. "It's flat. It has walls, and I hate walls. Walls keep things in, and they keep things out and I..._need...things,_ Rose. I can't deal with the silence. I can't even hear the cars. We're in the middle of London, and I can't hear the cars because the windows don't open," he dropped his head into his hands. "Why don't you just tie me up and throw me in prison?"

"Oi!" she protested, "That's not sounding like such a bad idea, you know."

"Oi!" he replied, and then suddenly looked as though he had no idea what to say, do, or indeed where he was. "Rose, can we live outside?"

"What?" she asked, gaping.

"Let's live outside; we'll camp. Donna didn't like camping much, you know? But I'd like to camp; we'll do it, we'll live in a tent where things can get in and we can hear the cars."

Rose was speechless. "Have you gone mental?" she asked.

"Come on, Rose, it'll be an adventure, just like old times!"

"In case you've forgot," Rose said slowly, angrily. "You're the one who told me that we'd be having adventures again soon. Remember? The new TARDIS?"

The Doctor swallowed deeply, and she saw him Adam's apple move with the action. "Right, yeah, that," he agreed, nodding furiously. "Well...that could take years..."

"What?"

"I think...I think it might take years. Rose, I can't live here for years, please."

And that was it; he dissolved. Rose caught him in her arms as him head lulled forwards, and felt the warmth of his tears soak through the flannel of her pyjamas. She stroked up and down his back and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear. He was overtired and homesick and completely different yet oh, so the same as before. He hurt like a Timelord, and cried like a human, his hands fisting in the fabric of her top and tugging her closer.

"My Rose," she heard him mutter against her shoulder.

"Look," she said, and he pulled his head up to look at her through sore, tired eyes. "We'll figure something out, yeah? I mean, if you don't like it here, there's plenty of other places we could..."

Rose stopped; where though? Where were they going to find a place to live without walls and windows and a roof? Did he honestly expect them to become homeless simply because he was feeling claustrophobic?

He drew in a great, shuddering breath and cupped her face in his large, warm hands. She stared up at him, surprised, as he drew each ragged breath through his pink lips. His cheeks were flushed and he stared at her face as though searching for something; some kind of promise that he didn't trust her to make.

"I never stopped looking, Rose," he said desperately, his eyes boring into hers. "I never stopped looking for you; not ever. Every time I got the chance I would think about it; try and figure out some way to get back to you."

"I...I know," she replied, her voice sticking in her throat. "S'alright, yeah? I know. And you did find me, and we're here now."

The Doctor shook his head. "You found me, Rose. You did what I couldn't do for so long."

"Because I broke the rules," she reminded him. "And I had help. All of those things we had to do...you wouldn't have done any of them, because we were reckless, and we got lucky. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said, frowning in confusion. "Don't you dare be sorry? You've made me so happy, Rose."

As he said it, tears of anguish began to stream down his pale cheeks, and Rose couldn't help the little, tinkling laugh of disbelief. She brushed away one of the tears for him and smiled. "You could've fooled me," she told him. "Have you got superhuman hormones, or something?"

The Doctor shook his head, and looked down at her lips. "Rose," he said, his voice sounding weak. "I think...I think I need to go to sleep..."

And with that, he hung his head forwards and with a loud snore that left her gaping, caught halfway between horror and amusement. She hooked an arm under his shoulders and, with great effort managed to wake him for long enough to get him to his feet and lead him into her bedroom. He landed on her bed in a tired heap, squirming mindlessly up towards the pillow. He caught one in his grasp and held it tightly against his chest, oblivious to everything but the bed and sleep.

Rose sighed at his heavy snores and leaned over to loosen his tie a little; the last thing she needed was him strangling himself to death.

Once she had done all she could, she just stood at the bottom of the bed with a vague feeling of uselessness. What could she do now apart from wait for him to catch up on his sleep? She had a lounge full of television components and bed full of the Doctor, with no work to do and a flat that had been cleaned to death. She couldn't get to the kitchen for the danger of steeping on one of the pieces of her television and damning it to an early death.

So she settled on the bed next to him in the small space he hadn't occupied, and drew a book – which she had started reading a year ago – towards her from the bedside table. She smiled; it was still on the first page. She could imagine herself opening the book, deciding that she could be doing something more productive and leaping out of bed to go to work for an all-nighter.

The Doctor gave a loud snuffle beside her and turned to face away from her in his sleep, one of his feet dangling off the edge.

"No, don't..." he said suddenly, making Rose jump. His voice was distant with sleep, and she listened to his restless babbles. "Don't want to...don't make me go in there..."

Rose sighed and read the book as attentively as she could. For the most part, he was silent with the rest he so desperately needed, and for that Rose was thankful. She already felt guilty; like it was her fault for dooming him to a life on earth; a human life with her. She didn't want to her how horrified he was to be in the situation they were in.

Her mind travelled back to what he said in regard to the new TARDIS he promised; _it could take years._

He had said months, and she remembered thinking it was awfully soon to have grown a new TARDIS, but said nothing of it at the time. Had he realised how optimistic he had been? To her, a few years sounded alright; a little tedious, but tolerable. She winced at how it must seem to him; his life had been shortened to a mere fraction of what he had always been used to. It was like being told that he only had an hour to live.

For just a fleeting moment – longer than she had permitted herself before- her mind was up there with the other Doctor, and she let the tears fall. Somewhere, her old life floated, and he was there, but he was right beside her too. Except she couldn't give him what he wanted. He didn't want this life with her.

She didn't know how long she cried for, but she jumped when she felt his hand rest on her knee.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, suddenly very awake. Rose shook her head, and covered her face with her hands, masking her sadness from view. "I...I didn't mean. Rose, we don't have to live outside if you don't want to. I didn't know what I was saying."

His voice sounded calmer; more normal, but still exhausted. He couldn't have gotten more than two hours sleep. Rose sniffed, laughed a little dryly and wiped away her tears. "S'not that," she smiled weakly.

"Then what?" he asked. "I'll put the television back, I promise. Come on, Rose, I don't like to see you cry; never did."

As much as his words were as normal as possible, his hand soothed up and down her back tenderly, and she sighed with the contact; something so familiar and comforting. He used to touch her like that whenever she was upset on the TARDIS. He would sit next to her on the console room chair and rub her back in firm, gentle circles. It had been one of the things; one of the things she had missed the most when she had lost him.

Rose gave in a snuggled into him, and his arms accepted her willingly. She feeling of her familiar bed and the usual familiar, yet oh, so strange warmth of his chest against her ear soothed her. His heart sounded too quiet; she was used to the thumping beat of two, but she loved to hear it anyway. The single beat tapped out a rhythm against her cheek like a promise of the new life she could have. But still, her old life hovered somewhere out of reach, and a distant part of her yearned for it. She wanted him to be holding her in the TARDIS after a long, hard adventure or even waking her up at some ungodly hour simply because he was bored.

She knew exactly how he felt, because she wasn't sure she wanted to live in the flat either.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed against she top of her head, and it occurred to her that this was the first time a man had held her while she'd cried since they lost each other.

"I miss..." and then she stopped, unsure what to say; should she say she missed him, when he was the one holding her? Should she say she missed the TARDIS when he was in the process of growing a new one, and missed her more than Rose could ever imagine.

He paused. "I know," he said, and it didn't come out soothingly, or harshly – it was simply a statement.

"You do?" she asked, and looked up into his dark eyes, which still held the harsh traces of fatigue.

"I do, Rose Tyler," he smiled, and pressed his soft lips against her forehead. She felt her eyelids flutter closed with the feel of the intimate little gesture. "I know exactly how you feel. I'm...I'm mourning a life. A life I'm going to have to get over."

Rose frowned in concern and snuggled into him, trying to block out the chill. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Whatever for?" he asked, with a little chuckle.

"Dunno," she snorted, and attacked him with tickling fingers at the side of his waist. He was surprised; caught off guard and gave a yelp of shock, which quickly turned into breathy little cries of mirth as he attacked her back.

The atmosphere had changed so suddenly, and soon her laughter rang strong and true through her bedroom, and he pinned her on her back against the soft mattress and tickled her sides mercilessly, in a well practiced assault. She squirmed and tried to shrug him off, rolling this way and that to protect the sensitive patches underneath her ribs, but he didn't relent, seeming desperate to pull laughter from her lips by any means.

Eventually, they calmed, with nothing but breathy chuckled between them.

She considered kissing him, but wasn't sure how he'd take it; something dramatic seemed to have happened overnight, and if he was truly having doubts about his life with her, she didn't want to push him further.

But oh, his lips looked so good.

"You can if you want," he said, raising an eyebrow a little saucily.

Rose blinked up at him. "What?" she asked, blushing.

"Kiss me, plant one on me, give me a big smackeroo-"

"Yeah, alright, Casanova, that'll do," she interrupted, and cleared her throat. Her face felt too hot.

"You kissed me yesterday," he pointed out. "And the day before, and the day before that."

"Yeah, well, you weren't going on about hating my flat and taking my television apart then, were you?" she muttered.

He smiled softly, then seemed to have a particularly troubling thought, and frowned. "Rose, you do know that when I said about the flat...I mean, I wasn't talking about you in the flat. Just the flat on its own. And not even really the flat; the flats lovely...just the walls...not that you didn't do a fine job on them too...it's the brick-ness of them. Yes, that's it; I hate bricks."

Rose grinned widely. "Yeah?" she asked, and nudged him. "You'd prefer the nice warm shelter of a polyester tent, would you? God, what are you like?"

The Doctor sniffed, peering down at her through tired, haughty eyes. "Not necessarily polyester, we could build our own out of twigs and leaves; that's how they did it in the old days. Ooh, Rose-"

"No," she cut him off, before the Doctor could finish.

She realised then how difficult this would be; he would always be restless, always crave a different life and go hunting it in the only ways he could, and she would have to follow or get left behind. Their old relationship had been based on a mutual love and understanding that neither wanted to stay in one place for very long, but Rose had responsibilities now; ties to this world.

He grinned a huge, brilliant, amused grin, still looking rather exhausted and planted a massive kiss on her lips. It took her by surprise, and for a second her eyes were full of pale, freckled skin and soft brown bed-hair, before she lost herself in the slow glide of his mouth against hers, and stopped thinking about tents and leaves, televisions and TARDIS growth spurts, and just focused on him.

His hand tangled in her hair; it was darker than he would have been used to, she thought for a second, but he didn't seem to mind. Had he noticed the new lines of worry between her eyebrows, born of many nights with the muscles in her face drawn together as though a good, honest, worried glare would solve all the problems of the universe? Her ribs were a little too prominent through the months of rushed snacks and lack of appetite.

"Something's wrong," he noted, and pulled away, his lips brushing hers one last time.

"Nothing's wrong," she insisted. "You should get some more sleep."

For a second, he looked utterly lost again, but gave a tight nod regardless, and settled down on the bed facing away from her. Her eyes traced the steep slope of his back all the way up to the brown scruff of hair atop her pillow. She sat upright, rigid and stared at the wall, thinking of nothing and anything and him.

What would he be doing, right now?

Rose Tyler, she told herself sternly, mentally giving herself a little slap across the face; he's sleeping on your bed.

Somewhere between the early morning light and the brightness of midday, she had dozed off. A scuffling alerted her to the movement in her bedroom, her instincts sending her into a bolt-upright spring, frantically searching about her. She found nothing but the bright light of the glare through her thin curtains, and the Doctor rummaging around on the floor.

Rose rubbed a sleepy eye. "What you doing?" she asked, her voice thick with slumber.

He didn't answer, and continued his sweep of the floor, bottom in the air as he leant over to his task.

She saw the rucksack and her heart dropped. He was scooping her clothes – dirty clothes, mostly – into the small bag, which already looked full to the brim.

"I hope you're planning on taking that to the Laundrette," she told him, her mind filled with dread.

He glanced at her, and she saw for the first time, not tired eyes but _awake; _so awake they seemed to shine out clear of his head. He looked wild; desperate, in violent contrast to the manic grin that was plastered across his face.

"Doctor, what-"

"Shh, Rose! We're going on an adventure. Just getting your things ready for you; didn't like to wake you," he noted Rose's expression, "and yes, I've had plenty of sleep now. Come on; look lively, Tyler. No time to waste – allons-y!"

"What are you going on about?" she managed, desperate. "Put all that stuff back. In fact, go and sit over there, away from my stuff, 'cause you can't seem to leave anything alone today."

"Oh, yes there it is!" he all but growled, gesturing in her direction with wild, flailing arms. "There's that fighting Tyler spirit! Been looking for that for days. I should play with your things more often, Rose."

He chucked the heavy rucksack at her to catch, which she just about managed. "Come on, then!" he enthused. "No time like the present!"

Rose eyed him cautiously. "If you're going out, you can pick yourself up some clothes. Something sensible."

The Doctor gave her a withering stare, shoving his hands deep down into the blue pockets. His borrowed shirt and tie didn't quite sit right, and he had extreme bed-hair. He looked unwashed, un-brushed and was wearing that lost expression that was becoming almost too characteristic of him. Then quite suddenly, it was gone and he was the Doctor again; her Doctor, holding out a hand for her to take.

She stared at it for a moment; he didn't seem well, but she had always trusted him before, hadn't she?

A wide grin bleeding out onto her face, which she hadn't washed since last night, she took the proffered hand, jumping up and swinging the rucksack onto her shoulder. The Doctor returned the smile gleefully and led her out the bedroom, so fast she had to jog a little to catch up with him. As quickly as they could, they left her stifling flat, hopped down the stairs and were bounding down the street hand-in-hand. Rose thought of a similar moment; en route to the Powell Estate that one that time before everything had gone wrong. It didn't matter that her hair was duller, or that her grin didn't stretch quite as wide, or that his suit was blue, because the wind was in her hair and nothing could stop them.

"So," she asked, feeling as light as the wind. "Where are we off to?"

The Doctor peered down at her. "Us? Anywhere we like, Rose! The earth's our oyster. Where would you like to go?"

"That way looks good," Rose suggested, pointing down a rather mundane street.

"Right, that way!" he said, steering them.

Rose looped her arm through the Doctors and walked with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. The air was still and tepid, their footsteps lost amongst the London dwellers as they comfortably dodged obstacles and headed towards nowhere. Rose thought how inconspicuous they must look; a couple walking down a street. Before they had been split, she had always thought of them as this great, oncoming blizzard amidst a hot desert; no one could have possibly not seen them, because they were the stuff of legend.

As quickly as it had flushed through her, the euphoria slowly drained from the pit of her stomach, leaving only a strange, vulnerable feeling.

What were they now? They were nothing.

"Doctor," she said, almost too quiet for him to hear; she half thought she didn't want him to hear at all.

"Hm?" he queried, only half listening.

"Doctor," she tried again, this time stopping dead in her tracks.

He kept going, stopped only when his hand pulled on the immobile weight of her. He looked back with wide, curious eyes. He looked ill; so ill. He didn't look in his right mind, and she was about to go off anywhere he liked with him? He needed stability and normality, and time to come to terms with his human life, rather than chasing old imitations of his old one.

"I...what are we doing?" she asked.

"We're walking along a street, Rose," he said slowly, as though there was something wrong with her.

"No, I mean," she swallowed heavily. "I mean...where are we going? What's down this street?"

He seemed to catch onto where she was heading, and his eyes looked a little sad and pleading. "Somewhere else, Rose, somewhere new. Somewhere we haven't been yet."

Tears locked in her throat at the cruel imitation of what they used to be. "But, we can't. There's nothing down that road but a chippy and a second hand book shop, Doctor. There's no adventure, there's no monsters."

The Doctor blinked, looking confused. "Well, you picked this road, Rose," he said. "Fine, we'll go down that one."

Pedestrians were looking increasingly frustrated with them, some tutting as they dodged around the pair standing dead centre of the pavement, and Rose looked around, as though hoping that one of them was about to laugh and tell her it was all a big joke, and that none of it had ever happened. The Doctor stood there, in this haggard looking skin, staring at her as though he'd never see her again.

"It's not about the road!" Rose all but shouted, attracting some curious looks. "It's...it's...this is ridiculous, Doctor, we need to go back to the flat right now."

The Doctor scoffed. "I'm not going back to the flat," he replied, and paused. "What's happened to you, Rose, where's your sense of adventure?"

To prove his point, he bounced up and down a few times on his knees, as though a few stilted bobs would send her into a frenzy of adventurous, insane excitement. Rose watched with tears in her eyes, becoming increasingly aware of the fact that they were heading in different directions. Behind her lay her flat, and years of pain and longing, loneliness and stunted growth and unhappiness. In front of him was this future he wanted that could only lead to disappointment; this road he wanted to go down simply because he had to walk.

It was cruel, asking where her sense of adventure had gone; it had been exhausted through every agonizing trip through the void and every time she got through only to find that she had just missed him; every scream into the dark that he hadn't heard, and every time her mind replayed the moment on the beach where she thought she had lost him forever.

She was exhausted.

"I'm going back," she decided finally. "Do what you want. Go, stay, whatever. I've looked for you for so long, and you don't even want to stay with me, do you?"

"Rose, I-"

"Don't!" she said, anger boiling in her stomach. "Just don't! You said that I could spend the rest of my life with you. You said that you wanted _this _life with me, not your old life. You can't get that back, Doctor, I'm sorry, you just can't, alright? We're not the same as we were before."

"Maybe you're right," he said, coolly.

Rose let the anger fizz through her veins and turned on her heel, walking away. She felt his eyes on her all down the street, but when she looked back, all she saw was his the distant blue of his jacket as he walked away, down the street and out of sight. She choked back tears, her insides sobbing freely as she lost him again for a second time.

* * *

At the time, it had seemed like the end of the world.

She had sorted the spare television parts into a careful, rather sad-looking pile.

But sitting curled up on her sofa as the sun set outside, she felt barely a morsel of anything. Some deep-down part of her had readied her for this, and she let all of the feeling bruise her on the inside and never come to the surface. She had survived all that time without him, and if she needed to, she could do it again.

Except she couldn't.

She couldn't do it; not again.

Rose started a little at the sound of her front door opening, the twilight barely lighting the room. Her eyes stung with the solid few hours of crying, and she peered at the door, all the fight just about gone from her.

Somewhere on his travels, it had rained, and tiny little drops of water clung to his wild hair. He was silent as he closed the flat door, and she watched him.

The words they didn't say travelled in the space between them, and she studied his back. His shoulders hung as though he had faced a thousand woes in a single afternoon, and they had clung to him, hanging off his neck and shoulder blades and head until all of the hope and adventure in him had sunk down through the dirt of the earth. This was him, held to planet by gravity, with her.

"The bus didn't come," he said in a quivering voice. "I have to wait for buses now, Rose."

Rose sighed, and it came out shaky. Without a word, he held out his arms for her; a silent plea for forgiveness and love. She all but launched herself off the sofa, colliding with him in a tangle of arms, legs, lips and apology. He met her kiss with a slight, surprised grunt of effort, hitting the doorframe with the force she propelled, but then seemed to find himself, meeting her kiss with vigour. She heard him close the door so that he could lean heavily against it, baring the full force of her passionate attack. She clung, kissed and grabbed hold of whatever she could of him, her knees scraping the door as she clambered up against him. Boldly, he cupped her under her bottom and pulled her up into his arms.

Rose pulled back for breath. His eyes were dark and rich, less manic than before but more haunted.

"Promise me you won't leave me," he asked, his voice low and full of promise. "Promise me, Rose. If that's all you can do, just promise."

"I promise," she nodded, and he hoisted her up a little higher. She could feel the strain in his muscles and was glad of her fewer pounds. "Yeah, I promise."

"I'm sorry I walked away," he whispered, and it sent shivers down her bones. He rarely whispered just to say something; it felt intimate and warm. "I'm so sorry, Rose. Wherever you are, that's where I am too."

"You mean it?" she asked, and brushed her nose across his, her eyes seeking out truth in his eyes.

"Absolutely. One life, with you, that's the plan, isn't it? The slow path; ooh, no, I don't like that. The slower path? The Rose Tyler path."

Rose grinned against his cheek, and kissed him deeply. He held onto her tightly, and she felt the lock of his arms around her back and the sag of his muscles where her weight was starting to fail him. His lips were soft and warm; warmer than she had always imagined. His blood pounded beneath his shoulders and he felt like any other bloke as he carried her clumsily to the sofa to relieve the weight on her in his arms.

She landed on the cushions a little clumsily, and he swallowed her protest with a long, slow kiss. He smelt like the sweat he had been walking up all day, and he was heavy as he pressed her into the cushions, but she found herself pliant and melting beneath his familiar touch. Every night spend yearning and longing flashed before her, and she wished that she could send a message to herself in the past and send all these feelings with a note attached:

_It will be fantastic, I promise._

_To be continued...  
_

_

* * *

_**Reviews are appreciated!**_  
_


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